The Blonde Family Chapter One :Beginnings:
by SquickWrites
Summary: I support this family! England is the mother, France plays father, and I bet you can guess who their children are ;D I call them the Blonde family for... obvious reasons. Yeaaah Manpreg and Boy love, enjoy XD
1. Chapter 1

**Why yes, I do believe in the Blond Family. It's so BEAUTIFUL. England is Mommy, France is Daddy, and Canada and America are their twin sons, one was born on July 1****st****, the other on July 4****th****. OLDER BY THREE DAYS XD Oh Canada… The land I call my home… I love them o.o WELL. THIS IS THE STORY OF HOW THEY WERE… ER… BIRTHED.**

Francis woke up to a loud yell coming from… his bathroom? He swung his feet off the side of the bed. When he removed the blanket, he realized that he was naked. Damn, what _happened _last night? He looked around the room, trying to recall the events. Okay, so he didn't really remember anything, but he kind of got the idea from the… one… two… three… four… five cans of beer and one _large _bottle of wine that littered the floor.

Yeah, that was about right, he could feel the hang over coming on. "FRANCIS!" The panicked yell wasn't helping, but at least now he knew who was screaming. He had never heard Arthur shout so loudly, and now wasn't really the time. "Yes, dear?" He said, sounding so tired it came out in an annoyed tone. Arthur was rushing out of the bathroom in his boxers. He seemed to be a cross between afraid and flat out pissed. Francis' eyes widened, fearing what his husband might have in store for him.

"GOD DAMMIT! YOU WINE BASTARD!" The smaller man screeched, beyond upset. Francis slid back on the bed- it was so _wet_- scooching away from Arthur uncomfortably. "I think you should maybe tell me what happened first, Arthur."

It was then that Francis noticed a small white stick in Arthur's hands. What was that thing? He'd seen them before _somewhere_... Arthur was almost in tears now and sat down on the bed, holding his head in his hands. "No…no…no…" he kept whispering to himself. Francis put a comforting arm around him like he was a little boy, and Arthur cried into his chest. "Punky… what happened..?' Francis asked slowly, stroking Arthur's hair.

Arthur took a deep breath and held the white stick up for Francis to see. Right in the center was a bright red plus sign. Now what did that mean again? This hangover was seriously screwing up his train of thought. He felt like such an idiot for not understanding anything, but it was hard enough for him not to pass out in this state.

Arthur caught on quickly and sighed. He looked up at Francis, wiping the tears off of his face. "Francis…" he whispered. The taller man looked back at him, a slight 'hm' escaping his lips. "I… I'm pregnant…" Arthur said it as quiet as possible; almost hoping his husband wouldn't hear it.

Pregnant. P-r-e-g-n-a-n-t. Pregnant. What was this a spelling bee? It took a few minutes for the word to render in Francis' mind, but when it did, the only emotion on his face was pure shock. Arthur couldn't tell if he was angry, happy or scared, but his eyes had grown wide and his jaw dropped. Maybe that was just pure horror.

Francis still had his arms around Arthur as he thought. And thought. And did a little more thinking, just to top off the morning. Mkay. So his husband was pregnant. He thought it was a little weird. Francis' loved his husband dearly, even though at first, the marriage was only because his country was in so much debt. He really did care about the man before him, but to be honest, another reason he had married Arthur besides him being _rich _was that he wanted sex… but not kids. He didn't want to have to deal with children. And yet, it was almost undeniable that he would have at least one anyway.

Francis sighed. "Just hold on until this hangover wears off…" and with that, he stood, walked out the door and stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen.


	2. The Blonde Family :The Revelation:

**Blonde Family, Chapter TWOOOO~ I hope this one isn't so short. Sorry about how tiny most of my fanfics are… So, here is the revelation to Arthur's pregnancy~ I know, I'm crazy, and there will be plenty of hate mail, but review it anyway! I'll take your hate mail! Reviews make my day! Thanks~**

**~Otaku w**

Finally slipping on a pair of boxers, Francis sat down at the kitchen table. He didn't feel like thinking right now. Instead, he decided to do the one thing that always cleared his mind. He decided to cook. That would definitely keep him distracted.

By the time Arthur had built up the courage to even walk down the stairs, the _croque monsieur _was already leaving the fryer and heading for the grill. Francis was wearing his funny, puffy chef hat and apron as he turned to Arthur and smiled blankly. "Good morning dear, I hope you're okay with breakfast." He greeted him with a smile.

Arthur stared at him oddly. That was quite like Francis. He wouldn't hesitate to completely dismiss a problem. However, problems were small things. They were ones where you had the option to go around them and most people chose it. But, Arthur Kirkland couldn't just let it slide. This was more than a problem, it was an obstacle. And when it came to obstacles, you couldn't just go around. You always had to climb over it, because there was no such thing as an easy way out.

"Francis, this isn't going to go away." Arthur's words were almost a whisper. Yet, they were so fierce and firm that Francis smile finally fell. He shook his head like he was tired and slumped down in one of the kitchen chairs. He wouldn't dare make eye contact with Arthur.

Arthur hated how immature he was being. But this was definitely the man he had married. He waited and waited for it. They both knew that any minute now, someone would either ask, or answer the big question. For a dastardly long five minutes, silence screamed at both of their ears. That is, until Francis finally muttered the one word he knew he had to say:

"How."

The word was more of a statement then a question. It was a demand more than a statement. Despite the time it had taken Arthur to get downstairs, he realized that he had never really prepared an answer. But he had to say something, or Francis would never be able to forgive him… Or at least, not for a long time.

"It's something we've been working on for a long time… My country that is." Francis looked as though it was the most repulsive thing he had ever heard.

"Please don't make faces like that. And don't make comments either until I'm done." Giving Francis one confident glare, Arthur continued. "It was something for couples like us. There were people like us… who wanted to get married, who were of the same gender. People like that, though, never had a chance of having their own children. But many couples… _like us…_ wanted that opportunity. So… you see…" Arthur suddenly found himself at a loss for words, but recollected his thoughts and continued. "You see, we were working on a project. It was a project for male couples to have the possibility of children too. That way… there were… er… No... um… _restrictions_ on men. However, naturally, we couldn't open this to the public just yet… We weren't exactly sure how it would work. And we couldn't let people use it. That would be putting them in danger! So… so…" Arthur stared down at the floor.

"You tested it yourself, didn't you?" Francis finished for him with a nasty sneer.

"Would you _stop_ glaring at me like that? This isn't about you! Please just _listen to me_! I'm trying to help my people! I want to-" Arthur was yelling again, but Francis cut him off.

"I think I have every right to glare at you. I know that this isn't about me. I am listening to you. I understand that you are doing this for the citizens. Now is there anything else I should know?" Francis said this in such a calm voice that Arthur was shocked, but he just shook his head. "Good." Francis smiled at the smaller nation warily. He hung his head for a few seconds before looking back up at him. "Well, I guess there's no way to get out of this one… You're already carrying a _child_ and I'm already the father… So I guess I'm responsible for it."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that. Francis' whole attitude had completely changed now. But that appeared to be the end of the conversation, because only a few minutes later, Francis grabbed the _croque monsieur _and settled them down on the grill.

As the days went by, Francis understood more and more why he hadn't wanted children. Arthur had always liked scones. Arthur had always liked tea. Arthur had not always been _obsessed_ with scones, or tea. Every single day, first thing in the morning, he would complain about not having them. Francis found himself waking up earlier than Arthur, just to make them before he could complain.

Arthur didn't go out much anymore. This pregnancy was technically still a government secret. So basically, no one could know about this. Not yet. And on top of that, the last thing Arthur wanted was the other nations laughing at him over it. He might have been pregnant, but he still had an ego. Even though this was Arthur's _own_ choice, he still had a tendency to blame Mr. Bonnefoy. The insults were rapid-fire from his mouth. He acted was acting like a five year old… Now imagine having to do that with actual children… Francis didn't want to think about that. Ever.

Then there was the criticism. Arthur was never satisfied with _anything_ that Francis did. It wasn't just the cooking either. Arthur had problems with the way the man walked, and the way he spoke. He would even complain about the country's culture on its own. Francis was sure he had been overreacting. They had been like this for a long time before they were married. Sometimes Francis still whined about how Arthur would team up with anyone, just for a chance to kick him. However, back then, it was always a joke. Or at least it was most of the time. But still… They had acted differently towards each other since they started living together. The jokes were the same but… they weren't backed up by hatred anymore.

To be honest, Francis didn't know what to make of Arthur anymore. There was nothing he could say.


	3. The Blonde Family :So Annoying:

***Shot shot shot shot shot shot shot* I'm so- *shot shot shot* I truly apologize! I'm so terrible for not updating… EVER. I think my FrUK hype just ENDEDDDD. So then it just got killed by Rochu and Giripan. Ugh. You have every right to kill me, JUST DO IT AFTER YOU READ THIS CHAPTER! Even ****I**** am really happy to be doing this. FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY! If I choose to, there should only be one more chapter, and then it shall END. I'm sorry I've been such a disappointment. I really appreciate the wait… I love you guys TaT**

**~ Ota :L**

Francis ducked, once, twice, three times. VERY POINTY objects were aiming for his _head_. He decided then and there that never again would Arthur Kirkland be allowed back into the kitchen. It wasn't like he would ever cook anyway.

"You dumbass _**PRAT**_! It's all YOUR FAULT, _YOUR FAULT, __**YOUR. FAULT!**_" Arthur's glare struck fear in Francis' heart. "You know what's your fault? HUH? DO YOU?"

Francis waited a second to decide whether or not this was rhetorical. Then he asked "What's my fault, Arty?"

"ARTY? HA! DON'T YOU DARE **EVER** CALL ME THAT AGAIN! As for what is your FAULT, that would be **EVERYTHING**! _You,_ are the reason that something is kicking my guts all the time! _You_ are the reason that I have morning sicknesses! _You_ are the reason that something is **LIVING. INSIDE. OF. ME!**"

Another Paula Deen steak knife shot past Francis' head. He flinched.

"Art- Arthur. Let's head on upstairs now dear… It's… late…" Francis mumbled, using the wall as a shield and crawling under the table. A fork came crashing into the tabletop.

"I WILL DECIDE WHEN I GO TO BED." Arthur screeched.

A few seconds of silence…

"Now escort me up the stairs so that I may rest." Arthur muttered, bending down to look under the table with a look that just said 'I hate you'. Francis could've sworn he was shaking, but he crawled from under the table and stood up. Holding his arm out to Arthur, he began to lead the Englishman up the stairs.

Arthur flopped down onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. Francis just stood there with an awkward look on his face. Arthur seemed to be staring into space, watching the ceiling with an unkind glare. Arthur's eyes slimmed, and Francis wondered what he was looking at.

"There's a leak." Arthur whined in a childish voice.

"Huh?" Francis asked.

"I said there's a leak."

"A leak?"

"Don't you see that? That little spot right there. In the ceiling. It is darker than the rest. There is a leak."

"Oh. I see."

"Fix it."

Francis could feel the shock on his face. "Fix it? Arthur… what?"

"You heard what I said! Fix it!" Arthur yelled, grabbing a pillow and putting it over his face.

Francis felt compelled to protest, but stopped himself. It was an excuse to get away from his insane husband. He could finally get some air. Maybe go for a walk… grab a few women on the way back…

"Don't you _dare_ think about going on an all nighter." Arthur sneered through the pillow.

Damn.

"Alright sweetie. I'll do it. For you. My love for you is _ohhh so strong_. Going out. On the roof. Two in the morning. Pouring rain. Dark outside. Might die. But I love you so whateve-" Francis was hit in the face by a down feather pillow.

"JUST FIX THE DAMN ROOF ALREADY!" Arthur snarled, sitting up and pinning Francis with a glower that could've frightened General Frost.

Francis lifted his hands in defeat. "Alright. I'm going. Jeez." And with that he was out.

Standing in the rain, Francis stared blankly into the sky. He ran into the garage and grabbed a large black bucket. Hustling back into the house, Francis carried the bucket into one of the guest rooms and onto the lower part of the roof through the window. He then used the shingles on the roof as footholds to climb higher and higher.

Now there was a problem. Francis had no specific layout for the house so… just where the hell would the leak be? Francis scrambled across the roof. Thatch after thatch, shingle after shingle, no holes… And then his hand grazed a hole about the size of a pin. This. Stupid. Hole. Francis opened the huge bucket and dipped the roller into the bucket of tar. The chances of this not working were very high considering the pouring rain and all. But he applied the tar as best he could anyway. Sitting there, crouched over the tiny splotch of black tar, he sneered. Seriously. Two a.m. In the rain. Tarring a roof. What. The. Hell.

Francis looked up into the sky again and tried to talk to god. "MON DIEU! TELL ME, WHY WOULD YOU PUT ME THROUGH THIS!" He forced himself flat down onto the roof, rolled on his face, and then over again. He grabbed the bucket, resealed it, and then snatched the roller up before sliding back down the roof to the window.

Dripping wet, he was not in the mood for cleaning up. He dropped the bucket of tar and roller on the wood floor and walked through the door without emotion. He was tempted, so tempted, to crawl back out that window and run away. Forever and ever, free, never to hear the angry voice of Arthur Kirkland again. But even so, he ended up walking through the door to their room. He saw the lump of a man, Arthur, under the covers. For maybe a minute, hatred seared through his body. But then he leaned in on Arthur's face and reconsidered.

When he slept, Arthur seemed innocent. He had a look of purity on his face. His hair was lighter and blonder than ever and his slight smile… it was mischievous and childish. It was the look that Francis Bonnefoy treasured. It was a true _gift_ whenever he smiled like that. And when he used that smile on Francis… even indirectly, it changed everything.

Alright, Arthur was worth it.

Just three more months of this shit.

**ALRIGHT I CAHNGED MY MIND. THERE WILL BE TWO MORE CHAPTERS XD. BUT THAT'S IT. NO MORE. I'M SERIOUS. Oof, it's taken me so long to write this, I have a headache from staring at the screen. OH BUT WHAT, I STILL HAVE TO WRITE ANOTHER REQUEST FIC AND DRAW A PICTURE.**

**Uuuuugggghhhhh. I need to be better at managing my time XD**

**~Ota… BLEH**


	4. The Blonde Family :Swinging Moods:

**Hey. Hey. People out there? All of you that want me to keep writing this story? You know what would REALLLLLY help it along? REVIEWS. If I don't get reviews, I think no one's reading, and why continue a story no one will bother to read? I got a random review from (lol this name) Signingupforporn after like two months and WHAT DO YOU KNOW, I'm writing another chapter! Thank you EVERYONE who reviewed! I adore you~ Yes, it's nice to see people adding it to their alerts and favorites, but reviews make me feel special :3**

**So let's keep these coming in! One more chap after this, and then I'll leave you guys alone ;D**

**Oh. And BTW. My laptop is broken again. So using Dinosaur once more (OLD FAITHFUL SAMTRON.) Idk when my laptop will be better but… it isn't right now 8D**

**And yes. In my world, Arthur has a motorcycle.**

**PROBLEM?**

**~Ota XD**

Francis finally opened his eyes. Was this good? He was still alive, so yes. He had to put up with his man of a pregnant wife, so no. But something seemed a bit off. Right, where was that annoying beeping? The sound of an alarm clock annoyed him to no extent, but he always turned it on so he would wake earlier than Arthur to make his breakfast.

Rolling over, Francis shielded his eyes from the sun. Was it usually this bright outside this early in the morning? Yes, it was late May, but jeez, no matter what time of year the sun did _not_ shine like that at 5:30 in the morning…

THE SUN DID NOT SHINE LIKE THAT AT FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING!

Francis tried to sit up quickly but only managed to fall off the bed. Getting on his hands and knees, he crawled over to the bedside table. He grabbed the clock and nearly unplugged it, but stopped grabbing it so hard when he felt the cord loosen.

NO NO NO NO NO… That could not be right! The clock said 9:01, way past 5:30! How could this happen? He had set the alarm right? He knew he did! Maybe he was seeing things. Yeah. It was those things you get in your eyes in the morning. It had to be. Maybe he was just dyslexic. That was it! He was really seeing a six, not a nine… that had to be it! (Even though he had never been dyslexic before…) But that meant there was just one more thing to worry about, considering that either way, he had woken up late.

Despite the fact that everything else he had done since he'd woken up was loud and disruptive, Francis turned as quietly as possible to the bed to see…

Empty sheets.

Oh dear god.

Where. The hell. Was Arthur Kirkland?

That meant he had woken up. He was already up! Everyone knew Brits were cranky enough in the morning! But a cranky _pregnant_ Brit was five times worse! It did shock Francis that he was alive at the moment. But that only meant one thing.

He would be dead as soon as he got down the stairs.

o-o-o

Since he seemed to have time, Francis used it. He knew he looked like an idiot wearing about three layers of clothes and a pillow on his front and back for protection. He wore a pair of his old war boots with the sturdy soles made to ensure that _nothing_ poked through. And even though Arthur would even hate it when he was his normal self, Francis had donned his wife's motorcycle helmet. He could have pulled more clothes on, but that would limit agility. And he might have to make a run for it eventually.

Why did he bother going at all, you ask? Because if _he waited_, that meant _Arthur had waited_. And believe us, that would not make the situation any better.

So without any arms and without any _real_ means of protection, Francis stepped out of the room, and into the hall. Tenderly and quietly, he took the steps down to the first floor one by one… Finally at the bottom, he peaked around the railing. THERE, in his resting area, the kitchen, Arthur sat. He was like a Venus flytrap. Waiting quietly for his prey to walk on by… Wait was that tea he was drinking? And who got today's newspaper? How was he reading it when nobody had gotten it? Francis' peaked interest might have killed him any other day as Arthur looked up right then, and saw him, standing on the stairs.

"…"

"…"

There was a long awkward silence until Arthur opened his mouth to speak.

"Just what the hell are you doing? You look like a right _fool_ in that!" He yelled.

Francis stood up and blinked a bit. Seriously. Those things in his eyes must be doing stuff to his ears now because he knew that did _not_ just happen. Yelling? And about his wardrobe? Where were the knives? The screwdrivers? The lawnmowers? The random cats with rabies? Not even some random crappy British food to shove down his throat? This could only mean one thing.

THE BOMBS WERE COMING IN TEN SEC-

"Francis! Why do you look so scared? What scurried up your britches last night?" Arthur asked, seeing the fear and puzzlement on Francis' face.

"You- I- I mean… Breakfast. I didn't make it! Silly foolish stupid me. I apologize Arty- AHEMHEM- Arthur." Francis managed to squeak.

"Smooth way of covering the nickname." Arthur mumbled, shaking his head. He turned back to the paper. "Anyway, no need for you to worry about breakfast. I _did_ attempt to make something, but thought you would prefer something different. So I just ordered some of those chocolate croissants you seem to like."

"…"

"That's alright with you, isn't it Francis?' Arthur asked, turning the page of his newspaper.

"Y-Yes… Excuse me I'm gonna go change now..!" Francis shrieked running like hell back up the stairs. He jumped into their room, locked the door and hid under the blankets for… protection maybe? Or maybe he could just call it a safe place. Francis' shaking was totally visible and he knew it. He was saying some sort of prayers to God, Buddha, Allah, Jesus, Nirvana, WHATEVER was up there begging one of them to send answers.

He didn't know who had sent the message, but minutes later, he heard one of the children that lived on their street giggle, saying, "When we get to the park, I'm first on the swings!"

…

"THANK YOU, God, Buddha, Allah, Jesus, Nirvana WHICHEVER ONE OF YOU DID THIS" Francis yelled, jumping from under the covers. It was so obvious! Swings! Mood swings! And this one was… good! For the first time, Arthur Kirkland was having a _good_ mood swing from pregnancy!

Tearing off the pillows and helmet, Francis threw off his boots and bolted down the stairs. Suddenly, he had Arthur in his arms, swinging him around. This may have been one of his happiest days in the past seven months, as he hugged Arthur tightly.

"Mon cherie! It's so good to hear your voice!" Francis chuckled, setting Arthur back down.

"Y-Your… wait a second! Calm down! What's going on?" Arthur tried to recover from the dizziness that was overcoming him.

Francis danced about the kitchen, humming. "Ah nothing dear~ I'm just off to a good start today is all."

"Oh… that sounds… nice. Um… if you need anything from me… I'm around… I guess..?" Arthur really couldn't process any thoughts at the moment. This was too weird. Between the confusion in his mind he endured every day and Francis' sudden change of attitude… he didn't even bother.

"And by the way, can we go out today? I haven't seen the sun in a while." He finished, rubbing his head.

Francis paused and stared at his lover. Arthur Kirkland, seven months pregnant and clearly showing, wanted to go out. His previous joy had been totally conceited, he knew, but some totally different emotion was overcoming now. He was happy for Arthur, that had to be it. Right?

He was going out again.

The knowledge that simple made Francis walk over to Arthur and kiss him passionately, unlike they had since their marriage. Perhaps he was proud of Arthur? He didn't know, but even after the man would go back into his 'pregnant phase', Francis understood that he wouldn't be able to get so upset with him anymore.

He remembered that yes, this was the man that he loved.

**I'M SUCH A CHEESE MONSTER! IT'S LIKE A BUCKET OF WARM VELVEETA CHEESE DUMPED ALL INTO MY BRAIN AND MADE ME WRITE THAT ENDING. AUGH. I SICKEN MYSELF.**

**This chapter was supposed to be more romance/comedy oriented than others, but you can take it however you want.**

**AND IN CASE YOU FORGOT AND WERE UTTERLY SHOCKED BY THE LAST PARAGRAPH,**

**Yes**** Arthur and Francis are married. ****Yes**** they are in love. If you weren't on board with that and you're still reading, totally prepared to write your hate reviews, press Alt + F4. Because I love you.**

**Anyway lol yeah ONE MORE CHAPTER MY LOVES~**

**~Ota ;D **


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE! VERY IMPORTANT!

**VERY VERY VERY VERY ****VERY**** IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**LIKE DEATHLY IMPORTANT.**

**Okay! Hello Blonde Family and Alice fans!**

**I bet you can't wait to hear how I screwed up, huh?**

**Well here's to you!**

**o-o-o**

**OH BUGGER.**

**(and no I'm not some British Wannabe. I say 'Oh Bugger' on a daily basis, just as I say many uncommon terms.)**

**Well you see, this is the situation.**

**My grade went on a field trip at five o clock. I had been showing a couple friends a story I had written for school last year while I read theirs (one grade below me). Now, I realized it was four forty. So I needed to change. We were supposed to be at the buses at five and by the time I got out of the bathroom to change, it was 5:06. Not good. So I ran, screaming bye to my two friends out the door. I literally had my shoes in my hands and ran through puddles, snow and ice in my nice white socks.**

**How many of you see where this is going?**

**When we finally got back, at 10:00 (Which, given, was an hour late.) the school was locked. So we had to wait an extra fifteen minutes for security to get there and unlock the doors. (Believe me, we tried breaking in.) When we did get in, something hit me. I said to myself:**

"**Did I leave my tablet out in the open for five hours?"**

**So I looked for it where it had been, and it was gone.**

**My bag was still empty on the front step, but the laptop and charger were gone. There sat my lunchbag where my tablet should have been…**

**And it wasn't.**

**So Juma (another friend) and I ran around the entire school trying to find it.**

**No such luck.**

**And as it would turn out, that was not MY laptop. MY laptop is being paid for by the school to be fixed. THAT LAPTOP BELONGED TO THE SCHOOL. So in other words I am in deep fuck. (excuse my potty mouth, I try to tread lightly, honest.)**

**Now all of this happened yesterday, and I'm hoping, HOPING, one of my friends had sense enough to grab my tablet.**

…

**But my friends and I are not known for our common sense.**

**SO I APOLOGIZE IF THE UPDATES DON'T COME WHEN YOU WOULD LIKE.**

**LIKE SERIOUSLY, YOU GUYS NEED TO PRAY FOR ME, BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE 2-20,000 DOLLARS TO SPEND ON ANOTHER LAPTOP THAT I WONT GET.**

**Wish me luck,**

** Chae Was Here**


	6. The Blonde Family :Badass Trio Delivery:

**Hurhurhur, HI! All of you that prayed for me and wished me luck, IT WORKED!**

**I have my laptop back, so YAY!**

**But seriously guys. This is taking so long to update (ALL THE TIME.), how do you not hate me? I will be so sad if you hate me omg.**

**Well, My apologies (Very lame apologies.) LET'S HAVE THE REAL CHAPTER FIVE!**

**~Chae . Was . Here.**

"Thank _you_, Monaco!" Francis smiled brightly at the brown bag overflowing with groceries. The girl had always been a bit of a younger sister to him, but he was just realizing how much he could rely on her.

The girl pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose after handing Francis the bag. "No problem." She said in her quiet voice, "It's the least I could do, right?" the young girl smiled.

"Honestly, you don't owe me anything. I probably owe _you_. And I'm really in your debt for this." Francis' eyes traveled down to the bag, looking through it best he could.

Monaco would have loved to stay, offer some form of help maybe, but she felt out of place. "Alright, Francis, I think I should be on my way now…" She couldn't, however, stop herself from trying to get a peek behind Francis.

Francis didn't lift his eyes from the bag as he spoke again, "He's upstairs right now, Moni. Had it been someone else, I might let you see him. But Arty isn't too keen on visitors as of late…" He looked up at the younger girl and smiled. The smile was so twisted that she could tell that Francis also fell into the category of a visitor.

With a sigh, Monaco waved, turning to leave. "Well, bye then. Good luck with your… relationship." And then she was gone.

Francis closed the door behind her. Heading back to the kitchen, he set the bag down. As he removed the contents from the bag, he checked each of them off with the grocery list. Monaco had done very well, getting everything that he needed and the right brands too. She was really someone he could depend on.

After all the groceries had been put away, he sat down at the table and stared at the dark brown wood. Arthur had been more social at one point… and it really had been nice. But the deeper and deeper he got into this pregnancy, the more he seemed to be drifting off. In a way, this was a bonus. There wasn't nearly as much screaming. (Thank god the neighbors stopped calling the police about disturbances in their house…) But Francis couldn't help feeling like he had lost Arthur to someone else. Someone quieter and not so… and not quite so Arthur.

Francis sighed, scrutinizing himself for thinking like that. That wasn't very _nice_ now was it? They were still a married couple and pregnancy… issues was nothing to drive them apart. As he thought so, Francis felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He didn't want to answer it. The only thing he had wanted to do for the last nine months was sleep. Besides having Morocco and Seychelles run errands for him now and then, he had pretty much cut off everyone else. So of course when _I'm Awesome_ started playing on his phone (As chosen by the caller of course…) he was more than – how to say – somewhat confused. Reluctantly at best, he pressed the green button on his phone to answer the call.

"Hello-"

"HELL YEAH!" An overly excited voice erupted into Francis ear. Another time, he may have flinched. But after Arthur's constant shouting for a few months, Francis' ears had become practically invincible.

"…Gilbert. What are you doing on my pho-" Francis didn't know why he would ever expect to get a full sentence out.

"Dude. DUDE. I can feel it! It's coming!"

"What's comi-"

"SOMETHING. AMAZING. A MIRACLE OF SORTS."

"What does that mea-"

"NO FUCKING IDEA MAN. BUT IT'S COMING."

"Uhm, ok. Why are you calling m-"

"BECAUSE IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU BRO!"

"About m-"

"YES. YOU. AND WE ARE COMING _FOR YOU_."

"We who? I don't know what you're talking abou-"

"Got EL HERMANO TONIO~"

A distant, but spirited 'HOLA!' was heard in the background behind a powerful engine.

"Oh my god…"

"DIOS MIO'S RIGHT, MAN! WE'RE GETTING THE _BAND_ BACK TOGETHER!" Gilbert shouted again.

"Isn't it illegal to talk on your phone and drive at the same tim-"

"WHEN DID THAT POLE GET SO HIGH UP IN YOUR ASS, BRAH? CMON, GRAB THAT WIFEY OF YOURS, WE GOTTA GO!"

Francis stared at his phone as different shouts and snips of heavy metal music flowed through the kitchen. At first, as anyone would, Francis considered that his two best friends were probably insane. But as he did recall, Gilbert had somewhat of a talent for predictions. He didn't always see everything exactly as it was, but when Gilbert Beilschmidt got a random urge to do something, there was usually some sort of reasoning behind it. Biting his lip uncomfortably, Francis got on his feet and ran up the stairs.

Opening the door quietly as possible, Francis leaned his head in. "Arthur...?" he whispered. And an immediate shock set in on his face.

Arthur was laying on the bed, under the covers, completely red in the face. Sweat poured down his forehead and his green eyes were closed tightly. His ragged breathing was a definite sign of his discomfort, and Francis wasn't sure of exactly what to do.

Arthur laughed as best he could. "I suppose… this is a bit more than just kicking, isn't it?"

…In all honesty, Francis hadn't planned for this. I mean sure the pregnancy had happened a full nine months ago but…

Damn.

WAIT WAS ARTHUR GOING TO ACTUALLY GIVE BIRTH TO CHILDREN?

In more ways than one, it had never occurred to Francis Bonnefoy that Arthur was actually _pregnant_. As in _birth_.

Francis squeaked, unsure of what to do. "Get me out of here you dumbass Frog!" Arthur screeched at the taller man.

"Right, right!" Francis paced in two circles before running over to the bed. "It'll be okay…! You'll be fine, I promise. You'll be absolutely _FINE."_ As he stood over the bed, he repeated this more for himself than Arthur.

Because holy shit, Arthur was gonna GIVE BIRTH!

"Help me _up_!" Arthur yelled. Arthur was yelling just as he always would, but it was in an order of commanding Francis. Because he clearly had no idea what he was doing.

Obliging, Francis helped Arthur get to his feet. That did not help the breathing at all, but it was progress.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh GOD…" Francis continued mumbling as he numbly helped Arthur down the stairs and through the kitchen. Once in the entrance hall, Francis bit down on his lip again. Opening the front door in a mad rush, he slammed it against the inside wall.

There was only one second's time to even look frantic because as soon as Francis turned his head, a bright fire red classic jaguar came screeching and spinning into the driveway.

"THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT?" Arthur shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"You can't be serious." Francis mumbled, trying to act like he didn't know what was going on.

But that dumbass of an albino already had his head sticking out the window. "ALRIGHT LADIES, LET'S DO THIS!"

"Francis. What are those people doing at my _HOUSE_?" Arthur threatened through gritted teeth.

"I think… they're going to help. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I hope so…"

Before the car even finished spiraling (For Gilbert had quite a flare for the dramatic) Antonio threw the door open.

"TONTO EL CULO~! Saltar en!" The Spaniard laughed as the jaguar finally stopped.

Francis and Arthur both frowned. But then again, this was their best bet after all.

"Well… let's go." Francis mumbled, trying to usher Arthur into the car.

"Are you SERIOUSLY about to let me INTO THAT CAR?" Arthur screeched.

Francis waited until the car had actually stopped before speaking again. "I'm sorry but this is all we've got right now. So unless you plan on dropping a kid in the middle of our driveway, you're going to need to get into the Jaguar." Gilbert revved up on the gas again, agitated.

Struggling against Francis all the way, Arthur Kirkland suddenly somehow ended up in that car. God knows how Gilbert made that car big enough to fit a man in labor, and three other full-grown men, but he did it. Somehow.

"HAHA. Seriously Francey, you _GOTTA_ bow down to me some time. I've just got the BEST timing!" Gilbert gloated. But as he did so, he threw the car into reverse and pushed hard as he could on the gas pedal. "Now now, love, exactly where shall we go today?"

"GET US TO A HOSPITAL **NOW**!" Francis screamed, losing his temper.

"Hey, calm down now, hombre! We got this!" Antonio sniggered, kicking his feet up on the dashboard as he wrapped an arm around Gilbert's neck.

The steering wheel was turned and the jaguar made a rough left, cutting through bushes and cutting off traffic going in the opposite direction.

"WHOOOOOOOOO YEEEEEAAAAAHHH!" Gilbert and Antonio screeched, singing some odd version of American Pie.

Somewhere along the way, Arthur managed a death grip around Francis throat. Through gritted teeth, he screeched, "GET. ME OUT. OF THIS. FUCKING. CAR."

Right, because for a few seconds, Francis had forgotten what was going on. One part of him made him want to scream "HELP ME!" out the window. Another part wanted to sing American Pie with his best friends like they had in years past… But Arthur brought him back to the present and he tried to figure out where they were.

A street…

_This did not look familiar._

A city…

_Okay where are we?_

A COUNTRY…

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" Francis found himself screaming into Gilbert's ear. Gilbert suddenly pressed down on the brakes, and the car forced itself onto its front wheels.

Gilbert's red eyes turned to meet Francis' blues. "Heeey… where are we going again?"

There was a very long pause.

Without another hesitation, Francis stepped on Gilbert's face – _politely as he could_ – and kicked him aside as he took the driver's seat. Pressing down on the gas, Francis drove up the street until he saw a street sign, and began to take the quickest route possible to the hospital.

"Now I don't want you two _dumbasses _to say another word. EITHER OF YOU. And Arthur… just tell me how you're holding up back there." Francis demanded, and finally, as he jammed off the radio, the car was practically silent. With some sort of sanity finally at the wheel, they actually made it to the hospital.

Antonio and Gilbert helped Arthur into the building (as told), while Francis got an emergency room for a c-section. Arthur was on a stretcher and ready for an operation in minutes.

o-o-o

Because they had already been there, Antonio and Gilbert assisted Francis in making calls to anyone that would need to know what was happening. When that was taken care of, Francis was back in the operating room in light speed.

And then out again.

Because he swears, he would have stayed through anything with Arthur. But who really wants to sit there and watch their spouse being stabbed in the back (literally.) and then sliced to pieces?

Not Francis.

But he wasn't alone as a quite green Gilbert waddled out of the operation room.

**X.x.X**

"Wake _up_, dumbass." A redhead commanded, poking Francis with a long stick.

The surgery hadn't taken that long, it had taken hours to get Arthur to calm down was the problem. After the child had been removed, there was still screaming, fighting and… bleeding. Of course, Arthur's brothers, **(Okay please excuse me, but do brace yourselves for the stupidity that is about to follow.)** Scott and Wallace had stayed the whole time. With cameras and laughter all the way. Francis would have helped, _REALLY_, but it had all just been too much. And then NO ONE could find Antonio and there was too much screaming in the hospital and… and…

It just wasn't working.

"Wha-what?" Francis asked, still a bit disturbed.

A dirty blonde Wallace peeked out from behind Scott with a lopsided smile. "Ha! That was enough blood to last me the rest of the year! The kid's out so whatever now. I'm gone." He turned to walk away but span around again. "Unless you plan to pass out a second time, because I did not get the first one on film…" Wallace continued, turning on his flip camera.

"Shut up." Francis yelled, but he was already dashing down the hall. He had wormed his way through the door before Arthur's older brothers could even turn around.

Francis hid behind one masked and aproned doctor for protection (from his husband of course.) and peeked over his shoulder…

"WHOA. WAIT. WHAT. **WHAT.**" Francis suddenly shouted.

In a split second, a pillow had Francis pinned to the wall, and he knows – _KNOWS_ – that it literally tried to suffocate him. So after fighting the demon pillow away and tossing it to the floor, he ran around in nervous circles.

Whispering anxiously, he continued. "No one told me, no one told me, oh my god, _no one_ told me, no one has told me…"

Because no one had told him that there would be _two._

_TWO._

_**TWO.**_

HE STILL DIDN'T KNOW IF HE WANTED ONE KID BUT _**TWO**_?

And then the room went black and Wallace was ecstatic that he had kept his camera on.

o-o-o

When Francis woke up this time, the room was empty aside from a covered Arthur and two bundled up infants.

"Are you going to pass out again? Wallace left me with an extra camera." Arthur muttered nodding to the blue flip camera on the bedside table.

"I-I-I won't…" Francis promised in a frail voice.

"You don't sound so sure." Arthur replied with a sigh.

"I'll try." Francis replied, sounded a bit firmer. He walked over to the bed, and looked down at the children. Both of them had the same bright blue eyes and the same color hair. However, the one on the left had small tufts of straight blonde hair while the other's stuck up precariously in any which direction. The child with an unruly head clearly had an attitude to match as he kicked at his brother and the other one flipped away and whined to the air.

Francis held the child that seemed a bit calmer and frowned at the other child as he cried when his punching bag was taken away. Because he wanted his punching bag.

"Names?" Francis asked, staring at the child in his arms as it began to slowly nod off to sleep.

"Not yet. I waited." Arthur replied, trying to stop the other child from crying. "Name that one if you want."

Francis' eyes lit up.

"But if you try to call him Francis Junior, I will tear your voicebox out."

Francis frowned. After a few minutes, the child was sound asleep and he made a choice. "Can I call him Matthieu?" Francis asked politely, ready to run before his voicebox was torn out.

"Matthew?"

"Matthieu."

"…Okay?" Arthur replied, with a suspicious face.

"What about that one?" Francis asked, skeptical of the child still kicking forcefully at the are with a strange light in his eyes and a powerful smile upon his face.

"…This little rat doesn't need a name."

"Come _on_ Arty."

"I'll think about it later when he isn't so annoying."

**X.x.X**

_And so began the life of the so called Blonde family. Two beautiful children and a happy couple and…_

Yeah, I'm a liar. We all know how it turns out with the wars and the pairings and the blegh.

And I'm too friggin lazy to get into any of that.

**THE. END.**

…

**Okay it's actually not really the end. (I KNOW YOU GUYS HATE ME. MAKING YOU READ THIS LONG CHAPTER AND THEN WHAT IS THIS MESS ABOUT ANOTHER ONE.) But hey, I have to tell you how things go along, right? And Alfred (OH WAIT COUGH COUGH) the child with no name still needs a name~**

**OKAY ABOUT THE TRIO… I'm sorry but I love/am totally confident in writing Gilbert Beilschmidt. If anyone. And I can't even spell his last name. He and I are so much alike, it's like writing a diary. Antonio… I just try to imagine he isn't there. And I just so happened to be watching George Lopez when I wrote that part.**

**AND PLEASE DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT SCOTT AND WALLACE THEY AREN'T MY CHARACTERS, THEY AREN'T CHARACTERS **_**AT ALL**_** IT JUST OCCURRED TO ME THAT I SHOULD PUT THEM IN THERE IDK.**

**And oh yeah, EVER SINCE I wrote the actual third chapter, every time I write a chapter of this, I save it as chapter three. (And I've rewritten this chapter and chapter four like ten times.)**

**Yay Monaco. Bye.**

**~Chae XD**


	7. The Blonde Family :And The Children:

**Hehehehehehehe. This is actually the end. LIKE THE NO JOKE END GUYS. Unless someone asks me to continue((And they better have a good idea, because god knows I am out of ideas)), this is the end! So let's seal it up nicely in a parcel that you can hand to your yaoi loving friends **

**~Chae Loves That Microsoft Word Changes Into a Smiley Face**

**X.x.X**

"Alfred! Get your bloody ass back _OVER HERE!_" Arthur yelled, but Alfred was GONE. Running throughout the house. This was how he had been since both of the twins learned to walk, and Arthur had worked off the pregnancy weight by chasing him around every ten seconds.

Gilbert laughed loudly and Francis chuckled, continuing to hold tightly to Matthew. Inadvertently, they _had_ picked favorites, but it wasn't a big deal. Arthur and Alfred seemed to be a perfect match anyway.

"You see! I told you it'd catch on!" Gilbert gloated to Francis.

Francis nodded his head side to side, sick of hearing the German's voice. "Yes yes, you did Gilbert. You really did." He replied

Gilbert had come up with the name Alfred. It was some kind of combination of both of the parents names. **A**rthur Kirk**l**an**d** and **Fr**ancis Bonn**e**foy. ALDFRE, was easily turned into Alfred. Gilbert really did have some logic behind the name, but after you heard it you couldn't really grasp it. For the most part they ignored the name, but they didn't want the boy growing up to use the name _Git_ or _Gar__ҫ__on Petit_, and certainly not _Anonymous_. Francis had given in first, but whether he would admit it or not, Arthur had finally adjusted to the name as well.

_Thump, thump, thump!_

Arthur wandered back into the room, glancing behind him a bit guiltily, but then shrugged as he slumped into his chair.

"…Alfred fell down the stairs again, didn't he?" Francis asked absentmindedly, pulling the pacifier out of Matt's mouth.

"Right onto his neck at the first step." Arthur shrugged.

"Aren't you-" Francis and Gilbert both began, but were interrupted.

"I have absolutely no plans to get him." Arthur replied, instantaneously.

Francis didn't know why he even expected him to do so as Alfred started crying. IT always went like this. Alfred fell, Arthur left, and Alfred climbed back up the stairs, terrorized the kitchen or cried until someone came to get him. That someone was _never_ Arthur. And it never would be.

"Gil, can you go get him?" Francis asked, as Matthew continued playing with his father's hands.

"Uhhhhh, nah." Gilbert replied, narrowing his eyes and then kidnapping Matthew. The albino fell onto his back in the couch and pulled the little boy close to him, rocking back and forth as he kicked his feet in the air while blowing a raspberry in the child's face. "You _know_ Matt's my favorite. Alfred's strong! His skull's thick enough to take some stairs like that."

As he finished saying this, Matthew suddenly bit Gilbert's hand hard enough to draw blood. "AGH!" The older man shouted, while Francis snickered.

"You know, he's never done that. Even to people he doesn't like." Francis laughed, standing up to retrieve the suddenly silent child at the bottom of the stairs.

When Francis reached the end of the steps, he instinctively picked up the blond child in white nightgown from the ground, but his arms had to take a second to adjust. Something was weird here… this didn't feel like Alfred..?

"Alfred, when did you get so heav…y" Francis stared at the child before him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, awkward smile…

…

Wait…

"Peter. What the hell are you doing in my house?" Francis asked bluntly and bitterly, dropping the younger boy.

"What? How did you know it was me? I have the embarrassing nightgown and everything!" Peter replied, laying flat out on his back.

"Where is my child." Francis… demanded more than asked.

"I am your child!"

"You really aren't my child."

"Googoo gaga!"

Francis quickly put his foot to Peter's throat. " Peter. Where is my son, and why is he so quiet?"

Peter made an angry face. "Waaah! Waaah! Daddy-"

Francis put more pressure on the boys esophagus…

"LAST I KNOW I PUT HIM IN THE FRIDGE NOW GET OFF OF ME!" Peter squeaked, gasping for air.

"Who the hell puts a one year old child in a fridge?" Francis sneered, running to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge, ultimately concerned for his child's health but… as usual, he worried over nothing. Sitting there on the second shelf was a small child nibbling at a cold turkey burger that had been left over from who knows when. But he seemed into it, considering that he had grown in all four incisors. Even though he was younger than Matthew, he was maturing much faster, and he was ten times as annoying.

Francis pulled the boy from the fridge, detaching the turkey burger from his lips. "That has to be gross." He muttered, preparing to take it to the trash.

But Alfred broke into large continuous tears until Francis gave him back the turkey burger and he continued to nibble at it. Shaking his head, Francis wandered up the stares – not forgetting to give Peter a glare – and dropped Alfred on the floor of the playroom.

"Never again." He murmured, walking back to the couch where a bite mark covered Gilbert and smiling Matthew were sitting. "_Never_ again. _Jamais plus._"

Arthur wore a questioning face as he stared at Alfred. "What took you so long? And where did he get that burg-"

"Peter is downstairs." Francis squinted his eyes in anger, trying to forget the child.

"…" Arthur was up in seconds and at the door, screaming, "PETER! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING IN MY HOUSE!" and then stormed down the stairs…. Then there was crashing and banging and broken glass and so forth.

But this was normal.

Gilbert chuckled, pinching one of Matt's cheeks as he tried in vain to bite his finger off. "Arthur has a great mouth around the kids. I can't wait for them to grow up. But any problems in the marriage and I call this one."

Francis snatched Matthew away, who immediately settled onto his father's chest with a smile. "I swear to god this child is mine. If anything goes wrong with the marriage, we burn the other one and all problems will be solved."

As if he understood, Alfred threw a linkin' log right at Francis face. (And hey, the kid had a good arm.)

Gilbert stared at the child who smirked in triumph before replying, "I will carry the torch."

**X.x.X**

**Short and sweet but enough? Hm? Or not enough? Or what? Gimme reviews then! I want your lovely opinions!**

…**lol Everyone is out to get Alfred. Whatever.**

**KKTHNXBAI!**

**~Chae. Loves. Alfred.**


	8. The Blonde Family :No Place Like Home:

**So they're about six now~ This story is so chock full of ocs, but purely because I want them to interact with their family and show some relationships.**

**Lol Alfred is just treated like shit ghuyrbgaieug no wonder he went independent. BUT THEY'RE ALL A LOVING FAMILY!**

**Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland all say hi today kanrjbhiee;oigubi HOORAY FOR IRISH STEREOTYPES *ROLLROLLROLL***

**O yea the random unnamed sister is the republic of Ireland. I thought I should point that out, because they're two totes diff places : )**

**~Chae**

**X.x.X**

"Oh _WHAT_? You thought you were cool? Thinking you could beat me? Well guess what!" A wild haired blonde was pinned to the ground by a much larger man. "You're nothing but a little punk! Just like your mommy over there!"

Arthur looked up from his embroidery with a long glare. "Can it, Scott!" He yelled, threatening the red-head with a needle.

Scott stuck his tongue out, and if it were possible, a light bulb could have appeared over his head. Mustering as much saliva as possible, he let it hang from the edge of his tongue as he lowered his head over the little boy's face.

The goob dangled precariously over the child's nose.

No! No! This couldn't happen! It was a nightmare for any child! To lose in such an embarrassing manner… was unacceptable! He needed a plan. There must have been something he could do. His six year old brain was trying to process any possibilities, ANYTHING! And then, it finally became clear.

The child sucked in a large breath and lifted his head slightly, exhaling roughly. As if done by an expert, the goob stretched back and hit its owner in the chin.

"Ohoho! And the Hero retaliates!" A dirty blonde was zooming in with his camera as Scott let up to wipe his face.

The kid jumped up quickly and tackled the ginger, grabbing him around the throat.

Of course, there wasn't much effect because his adversary was more than twice his height, and weight.

So it was more of an awkward type of strangle/hug as the 'hero' tried to tip his opponent over.

When suddenly, the camera man dashed in with his camera, his finger down his throat. He pulled his finger away and toppled the child, holding him down with his elbow at the boy's neck.

"You can't win! You lose! Always!" And it was all over as the dirty blonde shoved his saliva covered finger into the kid's ear.

The Hero had failed.

Again.

As Wallace pulled his finger away, he laughed, rolling off of Alfred. Alfred, on the other hand, was whining loudly as he wiped at his ear, trying to get the saliva out in vain.

"So stupid! You guys are cheaters!" Alfred complained, jolting upwards with his finger still plunged in his own ear. "Why do you always do that? Tag teaming isn't fair!"

Scott and Wallace seemed to grin at the same time. Wallace spoke. "Alfred, you said yourself we _always_ do this. Clearly we're teaching you a lesson here!"

"Oh what? Cheaters really prosper?" Alfred asked, giving up on his ear.

Scott and Wallace looked at each other as Scott grinned again. "I guess we taught you _that_ too. But what we _really_ meant is,"

The two put their arms around each other's shoulders. "It's always better with your brother." They said together.

Alfred stared at them in confusion. "So you're telling me, if I brought Matt, then I could win this stupid thing?"

Wallace shook his head. "No way in hell!"

Scott finished that thought. "What it means is that it'll just take us a little longer to slaughter you. And you'll have someone to share your shame with." He then turned to Arthur, his youngest brother. "See that Artie? We're _great_ role models!"

Arthur shook his head, adding another stitch to the embroidery. "Of course. Because you strangling my child and teaching him to be a cheater makes you so amazing."

Wallace smiled, jumping to his feet. "Yes! You finally understand!"

The Englishman sighed, knowing that already, his child was being ruined. Not that anything had been right with him in the first place, but any chance for morals was forever _gone_. "Where is Patrick anyway?"

Wallace raised an eyebrow. "It isn't our job to keep an eye on him." He turned to Scott, scrunching his nose. "Did he even _say _he was coming?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know he's weird. He'll show up sooner or later."

"Did you guys do something bad to him?" Arthur asked, slightly irritated.

"Whaat why would we ever do that to our little brother?" Wallace asked with mock surprise.

Arthur actually put his embroidery down to glare at the older boys. "You did bad things to me all the time when."

"Is that something I should be _concerned_ about?" Francis asked, sticking his head through the door.

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Don't jump into family affairs Francis. Remember, I got my eye on you."

Francis sighed, and waved Scott off. "Arthur I still can't find Matt."

Arthur shrugged, picking his embroidery up again. "Matt is the good one, remember? We don't have to worry about him."

Alfred screwed his face up in anger. "What are you talking about! Why can't I be the good one? I'm not even a bad kid!"

As he said this he stood up and kicked Scott in the arm.

"You're devil spawn." Arthur retaliated.

Alfred stuck his tongue out. "Well at least I didn't let the _devil_ impregnate me."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Alfred, I'm wearing a belt."

The blonde child paused, staring at his father's serious face. "I'm sorry." He said quickly, plopping down on the floor.

Scott promptly kicked him back.

"Well, I'll go do another sweep of the house."Francis waved and went on his way, still looking for the missing child.

Scott grabbed Alfred by the top of his head and mashed the child's head into the carpet, simultaneously giving him a noogie. "That was a dick move kid, you're learning. Except you're supposed to either _run_ or _be scarier than the asshole your kicking_. Other wise," he applied more pressure to the boy's head. "You get it back ten times fold."

Wallace shrugged, turning to his younger brother."Artie, you let your kid talk to you like that?"

Arthur shook his head, adding in three more stitches. "_No_, you guys are just usually here to punish him for me."

At that moment, Matthew walked into the room waving. "Hi Uncle Scott, hiya Uncle Wally."

Scott and Wallace waved at their favorite nephew.

"Mom, I found Auntie~" Matthew smiled, running over and climbing into his 'mother's' lap.

A much shorter red head entered the room then with a slightly disappointed face. "You know I'm the guy, right?" He said, pointing to himself.

_As a side note, Patrick and his twin sister looked exactly alike. As it so happened, Patrick was the submissive one. He may as well have been the girl._

Matthew stared at his 'Aunt' across the room. "Of course you are, Auntie." He replied, turning to play with the thread left on his mother's spool.

Scott laughed, laying on Alfred whose head was still buried in the carpet. "Even Matt knows, Pat. You need to go in the bathroom and check again."

Patrick scowled. "I don't need to check! I'm the guy!"

No one had noticed Wallace filming the conversation before he began to narrate. "A young gender confused girl fights for her rights-"

Patrick frowned as his face turned red. "This isn't even funny, I just wanted to stop by to say hi to the kids-"

"Like a good Auntie." Scott interrupted.

"I am _not_ a good Auntie!" Patrick shouted

Matthew crawled from his mother's lap as Scott shrugged. "Then be a bad Auntie."

Patrick was clearly boiling until Matt grabbed onto one of his legs and hugged him. "I think you're a good Auntie!" he said quickly, and suddenly all tension left the room like a deflated balloon as Patrick picked him up, and pet the child's head.

Scott's face suddenly became alert, so Arthur turned to him and looked concerned. "Uh, what is it?"

The ginger settled back down. "Oh nothing just Alfred stopped breathing a second ago."

Everyone in the room stared at Scott with the same alertness he had displayed just a second ago.

Arthur dropped his craft as his mouth fell open. "Did you just kill my son?"

Scott held up a hand to stop the rant. "No. I killed _one_ of your sons. The bad one. So I just did you a favor."

Arthur would have continued complaining if he didn't hear a familiar sniffle behind him. He always made that same noise, it was specific to him. Something only his parent would hear.

The man turned around to grab Matthew from Patrick and rocked him slowly from side to side before he had the chance to start crying.

"M-mom. Is Alfred really dead? I know he was stupid and bad but is he dead?" Matt whined, holding on to his mother's neck for dear life.

"No no of course not Mattie I'd never let that happen." Arthur said this, although if Matthew wasn't in the room he might have taken Scott out drinking for the accomplishment. However, that was not the case, so he nodded his head to the side with a nasty glare telling Scott to _move away_ from his child.

Usually Scott would have stuck his tongue out and buried Alfred's face down further into the carpeting. But his favorite nephew was about to cry because of him, and he did not want to be responsible. Slowly, Scott rolled away.

Equally dramatically Alfred shot up and took a giant gulp of air. He wheezed for a minute before punching his Uncle Scott. "_WHAT WAS THAT FOR?_ You practically _**SUFFOCATED**_ me! You bastard!"

Matthew turned around in his mother's arms, grabbing at the air to hold Alfred with a smile, Arthur was scowling, Patrick and Wallace looked _shocked_, and Scott frowned.

Scott smacked Alfred in the back of the head. "Who even taught you that word?" He asked, upset.

Alfred suddenly knew he was in trouble. But he _did_ have an excuse. "Uncle Gilbert taught me! He said I could say it when I was really really mad."

Arthur set Matt down, turning around, and as if on cue, Francis stepped back into the room.

The Frenchman laughed. "How long has he been in here? I've been looking all over for you, Matt!" But then he saw his wife's face and took a step back. "And yknow I've been looking for something else be right ba-"

"Don't you _DARE_ 'be right back' me! What kind of people have you been bringing into my bloody house? _Gilbert teaching him words like __bastard__!_ Who do they think they are? They aren't even blood fucking RELATED! _KEEP THEM AWAY FROM MY CHILDREN YOU GIT!_"

For a second Francis was stunned, then his face sort of fell into disappointment. "Arthur don't be such a hypocrite."

Arthur looked shocked that Francis had talked back to him. "_WHAT_ was that?" he asked.

Francis leaned around his wife and addressed the kids. "Hey boys, what are your favorite words mommy taught you?" he asked.

Matthew and Alfred smiled speaking simultaneously. "Bloody hell, Git, Prat, Fucker, Motherfucker, Dick and Asshole!"

Wallace and Scott choked on their laughter, as Patrick tried to hold in a smile. Francis raised an eyebrow, waiting for Arthur to say something else.

For a second, Arthur stared at the floor with a red face before glancing back up at Francis before mumbling.

"Whatever, nobody's perfect."

**X.x.X**

**PHEW. This was so hard to write for some reason, sorry if it's terrible *le headdesk* I purposely kind of left Francis out, because I feel like I've been using him way more than Arthur and that's just gotten rude njgialgwirg.**

**I think Arthur's order of relatives from oldest to youngest for me is: "Scott, Wallace, Patrick and his unnamed twin, Arthur"**

…**And as far as they care, Peter doesn't even exist**

**SCOTT AND WALLACE. I DON'T KNOW WHY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEY DON'T EVEN HAVE ANY CHARACTER.**

**They just make me laugh together sorry.**

**And then there's Patrick. I tried to be somewhat politically correct with him, okey. Northern Ireland, and his sister the republic. No one get on me for making him a stereotypical Irish person. HETALIA IS STEREOTYPES GOD JGNBHIGNRWBG**

**Are you guys going to make me write more chapters? IF YOU DO YOU NEED TO GIVE ME A FUCKING PLOT BECAUSE IM JUST LIKE WELL.**

**BYE.**

**~Chae finally did it**


End file.
